


A Trumpet-Voice, A Burning Brand

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Episode Related, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, episode 165 spoilers, in which Martin says hot Jon rights, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 165!!!"I just killed someone, and you think it's hot." It ought to be a question, but Jon's voice is flat with disbelief.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 103
Kudos: 730





	A Trumpet-Voice, A Burning Brand

It keeps replaying in his head, as the music fades.

He did that.

She was there, taunting them but powerless, and they were going to walk away, and they would have been fine, and then she said-

And he-

And it's the second time it's happened. Not the same, a different death than Peter's, but that doesn't change the fact that he-

Is a murderer.

Is a monster.

Is everything everyone accused him of, everything they knew he would become and he swore he wouldn't, he should have known better, he should have done more to stop himself, he should have  _ known- _

"Hey, Jon? Stop for a second."

Martin's hand on his shoulder pulls him to a halt, and he stumbles to a standstill, blinking.

"Martin? What's-"

His question is cut off as Martin's arms wrap around his waist, and suddenly Martin is kissing him, gentle but firm. He lets out a soft noise of surprise, but kisses back, wrapping his arms around Martin's neck.

Martin hums delightedly and- christ, he's enthusiastic. He body presses against Jon, solid and grounding, and he's licking his way into Jon's mouth already, tongue and teeth and-

Jon gives a small exclamation as he finds himself dipping, Martin twisting his torso so Jon falls back against his arm, weight held carefully balanced as Martin leans over him and holds him there. It's terribly startling, and  _ terribly  _ romantic: the sort of kiss one expects after a passionate waltz or on the cover of a Harlequin novel, Martin's arms around his shoulders and waist and Jon is still clinging to his neck and  _ god, _ it should be terrifying, but he trusts Martin not to drop him.

It's quite a while before Martin breaks off the kiss, grinning down at Jon for a moment before he swings them back upright.

Jon blinks at him, disorientated. "W-what was that?"

"Sorry," Martin says, but he's still grinning. "It's just- that was pretty intense."

Jon raises a hand to his lips. "I'd have to say I agree."

"No, I mean," and Martin laughs. "You, with the- the Sasha thing."

_ Oh. _ The guilt, almost forgotten, hits him again like a punch to the chest. And he'd done that in front of  _ Martin, _ let them both down by leaning into his powers, letting his own awful  _ anger  _ at Sasha's death overwhelm his better sense-

"God, Martin, I'm so sorry, that was-"

"No, no, Jon, it's-" He is, for some reason, still smiling fondly. "Sorry, I know I probably  _ shouldn't  _ find it hot, but-"

"What," Jon says.

"What?" Martin's face is the picture of innocence.

"Hot?"

"Yeah!"

Jon just stares at him.

"Oh, come on, Jon, really?"

"I just killed someone, and you think it's hot." It ought to be a question, but Jon's voice is flat with disbelief.

"You didn't 'kill someone,' Jon, you just  _ avenged our friend's death!" _

"I fail to see how that makes a difference."

"It's-" Martin is flushing, but he also looks quite invested in getting Jon to understand. "Okay, look, so it was already pretty hot when you started in with that whole mocking laughter and picking apart her lies thing, and when you stepped in front of me all protective like that I just about died-"

Jon opens his mouth to say,  _ isn't that a bad thing?, _ but Martin keeps talking over him. 

"But then she made that dig about Sasha, and I mean, I wanted to punch her too, right then! But, well, I couldn't, could I,  _ you  _ might be all powerful but that'd just get  _ me  _ killed," he shrugs, and his eyes are bright. "But then you! With that whole speech about all the suffering she's caused, all dramatic and vengeful, you were like, I don't know-" he flounders for a moment, "-like some sort of spooky wizard from a fantasy novel, like Gandalf,  _ 'You shall not pass!'" _ His voice drops into a lower register with the quote. "Except for you it's,  _ 'Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing!’" _ His voice goes deep again, and he poses with one arm flung over his head, one pointing dramatically in front of him. "You were like an avenging angel, come down from on high to smite the unrighteous!"

Jon blinks at him. "And that's hot?"

"Well  _ yeah." _ Martin says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Gandalf is hot."

"No, I mean-" He flushes a deeper shade of red, cutting himself off. Jon has a moment to wonder if he did, indeed,  _ mean  _ that, before he speaks again. "I just mean it was really badass, Jon."

"And..." Jon hesitates. "Badass is hot?" He's never been terribly clear on the definition of the word, and it seems to change depending on who he asks.

"Yes!" Martin nods enthusiastically. "Look, I know you don't get the whole-  _ thing, _ but trust me. Badass is hot."

Jon considers this. "Good to know, I suppose."

Martin looks surprised. "You're not going to disagree with me?"

"Why would I disagree with you? Like you said, I don't  _ get  _ the whole-" he waves a hand,  _ "-hot _ thing, it's not like I have a contrary opinion on the subject."

"No, I just mean-" Martin lets out a breathy laugh. "You were pretty adamant about the whole 'I'm not adorable' thing, I wasn't sure if you were just denying every compliment that came your way."

"Just the ones that are blatantly untrue."

"Oh, come  _ on." _

Jon raises an eyebrow at him. "I am  _ not  _ adorable."

"You are, though. You went on a  _ merry-go-round, _ Jon. As an  _ adult. _ For  _ fun." _

"Like I said, I was in a weird place-"

"It's adorable." Martin's tone makes it clear he will accept no argument. Jon tries anyway.

"How can I be adorable and hot at the same time?"

Martin looks smug, and tilts his chin up as he says, lightly, "You contain multitudes."

Jon looks at him for a moment. "You see that, right there?"

"What?"

_ "That _ was adorable."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Come on, I'm not going to argue this with you again. Either admit I'm right or let's keep walking."

Jon starts walking, and Martin huffs before following him.

After a few minutes of silence Jon speaks again. 

"It really doesn't bother you?"

"What doesn't?"

"Me. What I- what I did."

"I mean-" Martin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I know it probably should. That was... well, if had been anyone but you that had done something like that, I'd be worried." He glances over at Jon, and there's a small smile twitching at his lips. "But I trust you, Jon. I know you're not- not mad with power, or something. You were just trying to protect us, and avenge Sasha. And that's not a bad thing."

"But what if I lose control?" Jon can feel how faint his voice must be; is half surprised that Martin can even hear him.

"You won't, Jon. Like I said, I trust you. And if you get lost... I'll be there to pull you back."

Jon stops walking, and Martin turns to face him.

"Promise?" It's barely a word; just a breath of air and a world of trust.

"I promise." Martin steps forward, tilting his head to press a soft, careful kiss against Jon's lips. Jon's eyes slip shut, and he keeps them closed when Martin pulls back.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." There's a smile in Martin's voice. "Ready to keep going?"

"I think so, yes." Jon opens his eyes, smiles briefly. "I think I need to keep out of my own head for now, though. It's... not nice in there. Tell me about your favorite poems?"

Martin snorts. "Oh, don't pretend you're actually interested."

"I am!" Jon protests. "I may not  _ understand  _ poetry, but I'm willing to learn. So. Teach me."

"All right then." He smiles again, and links his hand with Jon's as they start walking. "So, even a self-professed poetry novice  _ must  _ have heard of Keats..."

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [“Frodo's Reminiscence of Gandalf”](http://tolkien.cro.net/talesong/gandalf.html) in _The Fellowship of the Ring,_ because why not?
> 
> _A deadly sword, a healing hand,_   
>  _a back that bent beneath its load;_   
>  _a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,_   
>  _a weary pilgrim on the road._


End file.
